


Don't Let Me Drown

by orphan_account



Series: Healed Wounds and Shattered Feelings [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Michael, Boys Kissing, First Love, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Top Calum, kissing scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calum remembers how, as time went on, Mikey started to cry a lot more than he smiled. He remembers how he felt so lost because Michael wasn't by his side all the time, that his best friend spent more time alone in the school library or in the furthest corner of the courtyard, taking hits with all the stoner kids. He remembers watching Michael waste away before his eyes, and how it scared him so much because he didn't know how to stop it. He wanted to scoop Michael up in his arms and rescue him, breathe life back in him, save him from himself, he just didn't know how. </p><p>OR: Calum's trying so hard to hold Michael together when all his best friend is doing is falling apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Me Drown

Calum remembers the first time he'd ever seen someone cry.

He remembers how it had been his older sister, and how they'd been playing together with her dolls. Calum remembers accidentally breaking one, and how Mali had stared at the dismembered Barbie for a few silent minutes before bursting out in tears. Calum remembers how his mum had come rushing into the room, and how, wordlessly, Mali had pointed at the broken doll in Calum's tiny hands. He remembers how his mom had gently taken the doll back from him and deftly repaired it, snapping the missing leg back into place before handing it back to Mali. Calum remembers how his mom had instructed him to say sorry and give his older sister a hug, which he did, even though he didn't really understand what was going on. He remembers how his mom had taken his hand afterwards and led him out of his sister's bedroom to watch a Disney movie downstairs.

Calum remembers the second time he saw someone cry, and how it had been his friend, Daniel. They were riding their bikes down Calum's street when Daniel's front tire hit a pothole and he went flying over his handlebars and onto the road. Calum remembers how he immediately hopped off his bike and ran into his house, yelling for his mom to come help because his friend was bleeding and in tears out in the street and Calum didn't know what to do. Calum remembers how his mom had helped Daniel walk into the house and cleaned up the scrapes on his hands and knees before calling his mum and saying that he was ready to go home.

Calum remembers the third time, and how it had been on his first day of primary school. He remembers how a lot of the other kids in his class had cried that day, and how he hadn't understood why. He remembers thinking that it was just school, there was nothing to cry over. He remembers how he'd been hanging his jacket up on his hook when a boy with fluffy blond hair and big green eyes skipped up to him, introducing himself as Mikey C. and saying that Calum needed to check out the cool sticker of a dog that decorated his coat hook. Calum remembers feeling a little jealous, because he had a sticker of a truck but he wanted the dog, and he remembers how Mikey had told him that he had some dog stickers at home. Calum remembers making Michael pinky-promise to bring him some the next day. Calum remembers clinging to Michael all day, and how Michael told him about his own dog, a little black poodle called Federer, and the cool posters in his bedroom. Calum remembers how there seemed like there were even fewer reasons to cry now, because here was Michael, and how could someone cry around Michael?

Calum remembers the first time he ever saw Michael cry, and how it had scared him so much that he started crying as well. He remembers how it was in year 4, and how Michael was trying to show Calum this cool thing that he'd learned how to do on the monkey bars. Calum remembers watching Michael fall, and how he hadn't understood what was happening until he heard Michael scream. Calum remembers how a bunch of teachers had rushed towards them and how they were talking to Mikey and about Mikey and Calum didn't care about what they were saying because all he could hear were the strange noises ripping from Michael's throat. Calum remembers realizing that Michael was sobbing, which was a word he'd heard about but never really understood until then, and he remembers being scared because it sounded like Michael couldn't breathe. Calum remembers how a few tears of fear trickled down his cheeks, and he remembers how a teacher had pulled him aside and asked him what happened and he shook his head, saying that he didn't really now. Calum remembers how an ambulance had showed up at school, and how Michael didn't want to get in because it was big and scary and way less cool than it was on TV, and he remembers when the teachers had finally coaxed Michael into it and it drove away. Calum remembers feeling dizzy and nauseous, and how the office had to call his mom and ask her to come pick him up.

Calum remembers Michael walking into class two days later with the biggest smile on his face and a cast wrapped in bright blue tape on his left arm. He remembers how everyone in the class had wanted to sign it but Michael let Calum sign it first, right in the middle. Calum remembers being with Michael in the schoolyard during lunch, just sitting because Michael wasn't really supposed to run around or play much with his broken arm, and Cal remembers how Michael had leaned over and rested is head on Calum's shoulder before quietly murmuring, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Calum remembers asking, confused about what Mikey could be sorry over. He laced his little fingers with Michael's good hand.

"I didn't want you to see me cry," he remembers Michael saying, and he remembers making a little disgruntled sound, squeezing Michael's hand and leaning his own head on top of Michael's.

"It's okay, Mikey," he remembers replying, "don't worry about it."

Calum remembers the time in year 9 when he saw Mrs. Clifford cry, and how he'd immediately turned towards the doorway, telling Michael that he was gonna go home because if something was wrong with Mrs. Clifford, he shouldn't barge into it. He remembers how Michael had grabbed his wrist tightly and looked at him with wide eyes, silently begging him not to go. Calum remembers nodding, because Michael looked scared and how could he leave when his best friend needed him? Calum remembers how Michael had taken his his hand and squeezed it before squaring his narrow shoulders and leading Calum into the kitchen. He remembers how Michael's mum had looked up at the two of them before sliding a piece of paper on the kitchen island over to her son. Calum remembers not reading the paper because it was probably something personal, and he remembers watching as Michael started trembling and how his best friend had dropped the paper to the floor as he shook, and he remembers pulling Michael desperately into his arms because the older boy was hurting and Cal didn't know why but he still wanted to make it better. He remembers how Michael had just crumbled into Calum, letting him support his body as he quaked in Cal's grasp, his tears staining the other boy's grey t-shirt.

Calum remembers how Michael had tearily dragged Calum up to his bedroom and lay down with his head on Cal's lap, letting Calum card his fingers through his blond hair. He remembers how Michael's thin fingers had grasped his thigh tightly as he spilt everything that had happened, the words dripping like poison from his lips. Calum remembers how he'd clenched his free hand into a fist as Michael told him about his dad, about how the man used to beat him, and berate his mother, and he'd just left, taking all of their savings with him. He remembers wanting to scream, or punch something, or run until he couldn't move anymore as he listened to his Michael tell him about things that no one should ever have to face, especially not his best friend, because Mikey was golden.

Calum remembers how, as time went on, Mikey started to cry a lot more than he smiled. He remembers how he felt so lost because Michael wasn't by his side all the time, that his best friend spent more time alone in the school library or in the furthest corner of the courtyard, taking hits with all the stoner kids. He remembers watching Michael waste away before his eyes, and how it scared him so much because he didn't know how to stop it. He wanted to scoop Michael up in his arms and rescue him, breathe life back in him, save him from himself, he just didn't know how. 

Calum remembers the time in year eleven, nearly two years since Michael had willingly spoken to him, when Michael had called him in tears and begged him to come over. Calum remembers agreeing without a thought because it was like things used to be; Michael needed him, so he'd be there.

Calum remembers knocking harsly on Michael's front door, exhausted and sweaty from running the whole way there, and he remembers sweeping Michael's thin frame up in his arms as soon as the door opened, and he remembers how Michael had gripped the back of Calum's sweat-damp jumper and let Calum lift him off the ground, wrapping his legs around Calum's waist as Cal cried into his neck.

"Cal, Calum, oh my god, I'm sorry," Calum remembers Michael sobbing into his shoulder. Calum remembers shaking his head as he carried Michael back into the house and up the stairs to where he knew Michael's room was. He remembers Michael weakly shaking his head against his shoulder as he gently kicked the door open, and he remembers nearly dropping Michael when he saw the pills and empty liquor bottles littered all over Michael's bed. Calum remembers setting Michael down on his feet gently and grasping Michael's face in both hands, forcing the pale boy to look at him as he urgently asked "Did you take anything?"

He remembers the relief that thrummed through his veins when Michael shook his head and earnestly promised that he hadn't. Calum remembers dragging Michael back into his arms again, and he remembers how Michael had seemed to almost melt, letting Cal support him completely.

"Why?" Calum remembers shakily asking, eyeing the bed full of pills warily.

"I was supposed to be dead right now," he remembers Michael replying with a cracking tremble in his voice, "but, I, Cal- I couldn't leave you. You- you're my best friend. I had to see you again."

"Why would you ever try to take yourself away from me?"

Calum remembers how Michael had completely lost all shards of composure at that, sobs ripping violently from his throat as he clung to Calum for dear life, his fingers pressing hard into Cal's muscular back. Calum remembers wrapping his arms around Michael's legs and hitching him up when it became clear that Michael could barely hold himself up anymore, and he remembers supporting Michael with one arm and stripping his bed with the other so he could set Michael down on it comfortably. 

"Calum, Calum, I- I'm so, so sorry," Calum remembers Michael sobbing into his neck as they curled up together in Michael's bed. Calum remembers murmuring random comforts into Michael's hair as his fingers ghosted over the older boy's cheek.

"Mikey?" he remembers asking softly, "why would you ever try to leave me?"

"Calum, I didn't- I'm sorry, it's just- I don't know, Cally. I just- I hate myself," Calum remembers Michael admitting brokenly. "I'm fat and I'm ugly and I'm stupid and my own dad didn't even love me and I just- I'm drowning, Calum. Please, please don't let me drown."

Calum remembers how his heart split into a million pieces as he hugged Michael's shaking form and promised, "I'm not gonna let you drown."

Calum remembers how he'd held Michael until he fell asleep, his head pillowed in the juncture between Cal's neck and shoulder. He remembers lying awake nearly all night, the reality that his best friend had nearly killed himself sinking in and chilling Calum to the bone. He remembers turning his head and burying his face in Michael's soft, blond hair, the only part of his best friend that hadn't changed. Calum remembers thinking that Mikey was so, so different. His bright green eyes were dull and tired looking and his soft skin wasn't nearly as radiant. He'd grown out of the little, lanky boy that he used to be, and was all soft edges and smudged lines, expanses of white skin marred with scars that Calum could see when Michael's shirt had lifted in his sleep. Calum remembers silently promising that he'd never let anything hurt Mikey again; not his dad, not the world, not himself.

Calum remembers the shock on Michael's face when he woke up the next morning in Calum's arms. Calum remembers trying not to think that Michael had been surprised to wake up at all, that maybe somewhere inside, his best friend still wanted to be dead. He remembers sitting up against the headboard and pulling Michael in between his legs, cradling the older boy against his chest. He remembers waiting until Michael relaxed against him before asking, "Mikey? Please, can you tell me why?"

He remembers how Michael's breath had caught in his throat as his fingers tangled in Calum's shirt, and how he'd rested his forehead on Cal's shoulder like he was bracing himself. Cal remembers how he didn't think he'd get an answer, didn't know if Michael was strong enough to tell him what was wrong just yet. He remembers when Michael had shakily said, "Cal, I- I'm not good enough." Calum remembers the sib that hitched through his throat as Michael continued, "I'm just wasting space here, Cally, because I'm useless and I'm depressed, and my own family hates me and I just- I'm not worth it."

"Mikey, don't ever think that," Calum remembers saying, raw determination in his voice as he gripped Michael's hips tightly. "You're worth so much, I swear. You deserve so much more that what the world is giving you. Michael, if anything is good enough, it's you."

"Cal, I'm broken!" Michael had protested, "I haven't seen my dad in years! My mum never smiles at me anymore, she barely even speaks to me! I'm a kid, Cally, I'm not supposed to be this sad! And, Cal- I- I think I like boys, but I'm a boy and boys aren't supposed to love other boys and I just, why can't one aspect of my life be normal, Cal?"

Calum remembers gripping Michael's chin in one hand and forcing the pale boy to look up at him. His chocolatey brown eyes had met Michael's green ones, and Michael's were dull and tired but still shining persistently, like there was still hope for him. Calum remembers whispering, "Mikey, I swear, there's nothing that can't be fixed. You, and everything that you've been through, are fixable. Okay? And I wanna help, Mikey, because I- I like boys too. Because boys love girls and boys, Mikey, and there's nothing wrong with that. And, I guess I'm trying to tell you, dammit, I don't know, Mikey, I just- I think I'm in love with you."

"But, Cal- no, you can't love me," Calum remembers Michael saying urgently, and Calum remembers how his heart sank to his stomach. "You can't love me, Calum, please. I destroy everything that loves me. I can't destroy you, too, Cally, I can't. You can't- please..."

Calum remembers how he struggled to hold back the tears that were threatening to choke him as he pulled Michael forward gently, brushing their lips together as softly as he could, resting his nose against Michael's cheek afterwards as he waited to see how the other boy would react. He remembers the anxiety coiling in his stomach as Michael sat motionless between his legs for a few moments. And he remembers how, seemingly out of nowhere, Michael had sprung to life, grabbing Calum's face in both hands and kissing him like the world was ending, his tongue slipping between Cal's parted lips. Calum remembers how he'd hooked his hands around the backs of Michael's thighs and dragged him forwards until he was almost on top of Cal, his knees bracketing Cal's hips and their chest pressed flush together. Calum remembers how hard it was to push Michael back a bit, to force Michael to meet his gaze as he asked, "Mikey? Baby, are you sure?"

Calum remembers the subtle smirk that crossed his lips as Michael nodded excitedly before pressing forwards again, trying to capture Calum's lips with his own and whining when Calum pressed his hand to the centre of his chest to hold him back, saying, "No, Michael, I need you to be sure, okay? Because I'm going to  _show_ you how much I love you, and I don't want you to have any regrets. Are you one hundred percent sure?"

"Yeah, Calum, I'm sure," Cal remembers Michael whispering breathlessly, "I just, I  _need_ you, Cal."

"Okay," Calum remembers replying softly, wrapping his hands around Michael's waist, his fingers slipping under the back of Michael's shirt and tracing the soft, pale skin. Cal remembers how Michael had whined against his lips, his hands grasping the front of Cal's t-shirt until his knuckles turned white as he poured everything he had into Calum, letting all of his emotions spill from his lips and between Cal's. Calum had slowly dragged his hands up Michael's back, Michael's white long sleeve bunching up around Calum's wrists and dragging up with it. Calum had pulled back just momentarily, looking into Michael's eyes to make sure that everything was okay. He remembers how Michael had nodded shyly, untangling his hands from Calum's shirt and grabbing the hem of his own, tentatively pulling the material over his head and dropping it to the floor beside him.

Calum remembers how the first thing he noticed were the scars on Michael's stomach, and how he felt like such an idiot for letting himself believe that the faded, silvery lines on Michael's hips were the only ones. He remembers how they cut through him like a knife because some of them were still angry and red and fresh, and how Michael had gasped and flattened his hands over his stomach to hide them when he realized. Calum remembers how he'd all but pried Michael's hands from his own skin and ducked his head to get a better look at the torn flesh on Michael's tummy, and how he'd leaned forward nervously to brush his lips over it, and he remembers how Michael had started sobbing and Cal felt so, so bad but it seemed like something that had to be done. He remembers hoping that his lips could rebrand the scars on Michael's pale skin, that he could make them into something beautiful, into something that Michael wouldn't be afraid to let Cal see. He remembers resting his cheek on Michael's hip and murmuring a soft, "it's gonna be okay, Michael, you're gonna be okay."

Calum remembers how he worked his way back up Michael's body, his lips sliding over Michael's soft skin, kissing a licking and sucking and biting wherever he could. He remembers how Michael's expression had slowly faded from fear and sadness back into bliss, and he remembers how loudly Michael moaned when Cal's lips slid over his nipple, stopping briefly to suck and bite on it gently. 

"Calum, oh my god, please, I- I need you," Calum remembers Michael pleading desperately, his short fingers tugging at Cal's ebony hair as Cal continued to kiss every possible inch of Michael's skin

"What do you want, Mikey? Tell me what you need," Calum had whispered into the space between their bodies, tilting his head up to see Michael's face.

"I just- I need you to touch me, please, Cal," Michael had whined, and Calum remembers being a little confused because the Michael that's he grew up with was never submissive, never begged for anything. The Michael that he grew up with grabbed life by the balls and dragged it wherever he wanted it to go, not the other way around. He remembers how he'd flipped them over, resting Michael on his back on the bed and climbing between his legs, yanking his shirt over his head quickly before adhering himself to Michael again and kissing him deeply, their tongues sliding together languidly. Michael had mumbled incoherently against Calum's lips, planting his foot on the bed and flipping them back over so that he was splayed on top of Cal. Calum remembers how Michael's cheeks and chest had flushed an impressive scarlet as he raised himself up onto his knees and hooked his short fingers into the waistband of Cal's sweats, tugging them down the younger boy's tanned thighs.

"Mikey?" Calum remembers asking when the Michael looked at his clothed hard-on with confusion creasing his forehead, "do you have any idea what you're doing?" He remembers brushing Michael's hair off his forehead when the older boy flushed even darker and shook his head. "That's okay. You don't have to do anything, Mikey, alright? Just let me..."

"No, Cal, I want to, just... Show me how?" Cal remembers Michael saying, looking up at Calum with wide eyes. Cal had bit his lip tightly and nodded, taking Michael's hand in his own and kissing his palm once, hesitating for just a moment before resting their joined hands on his pelvis.

"Okay, Mikey, so, just, like, take these off..." Calum remembers instructing softly, hooking his thumb in the band of his boxers. Michael had responded so instantly, his free hand grabbing the hem and tugging them down Cal's legs, eyes widening as Cal's thick, pink cock sprung up. "And then you just..." Cal had said, taking their hand and sliding them closer to his length where it rested on his stomach. "Mikey, have you ever jerked off?"

Calum remembers how Michael had turned bright red, biting his lip but nodding, and asked, "So, it's like that, but on you?"

Calum remembers nodding, and Michael had sucked his lip into his mouth in determination and slid his hand out from under Calum's, dragging it slowly down his pelvis and, somewhat unexpectedly to Calum, wrapping it around his hard length. Calum had let out a surprised gasp, his eyes darting from Michael's face to his small, soft hand where it was wrapped around his cock, stroking his length uncertainly and glancing up at Calum every once in a while. Cal had let his head tip back, wrapping his own hand around Michael's and guiding him, teaching the older boy how he liked to be touched. Calum remembers how Michael had slowly gotten more confident, squeezing around Cal's length in the way Calum had shown him, sliding his thumb over the slit in curiosity and smiling when Calum moaned. Calum remembers fighting the urge to buck his hips up into Michael's hand, trying to let Michael figure things out at his own pace, and he remembers how Michael had smirked cockily at the sight of Cal's hips stuttering as he dragged his fingers maddeningly lightly up Calum's shaft.

"Mikey, Mikey, you gotta stop," Calum remembers saying after a few more minutes, scrabbling blindly for Michael's wrist and pulling at it.

"Why? Did- did I do something wrong?" Michael had asked nervously, dragging his lip between his teeth. 

"No, Mikey, you did great," Cal had replied, "but I was about to come. And that wouldn't have been any fun." Calum remembers not giving Michael any time to process this before flipping them over and hooking his fingers in the band of Michael's tight black jeans, glancing up for permission only to find Michael's eyes closed and his head tipped back, already in bliss. Calum remembers dragging Michael's jeans and underwear off in one fluid motion, tossing them carelessly off the end of the bed. He had bit his lip and studied Michael for a minute, his soft porcelain skin, his swollen, pretty pink cock that was already leaking on his stomach. Cal remembers leaning down and licking over the slit of Michael's cock, collecting some of his precome on his tongue and revelling at Michael's high, girly gasp. Calum had picked up Michael's cock between his lips after teasing at it for a moment longer, and Michael had instantly arched his back and tangled his fingers in Calum's hair, a loud whine coming from his parted lips. Cal remembers sliding a hand under Michael's body and grabbing his ass, kneading the flesh of it as he took Michael as far down his throat as he could, loving Michael's little gasps and moans.

Cal had pulled off after he felt Michael's cock twitching and his muscles tensing underneath him, and Michael had whined in protest.

"I don't want you to come yet," Cal remembers explaining softly, "can you hold it for me?" Michael had frowned begrudgingly, whimpering desperately, but nodded, his hand's untangling from Cal's hair and sliding down his body to cup his hips.

"Thank you," Calum had cooed reassuringly, brushing his fingers down Michael's chest. "Okay, Mikey, do you want- do you wanna continue? Or we could stop?"

"Continue," Michael had whispered shyly.

"And what do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," Cal remembers Michael breathing softly, the words resonating in the warm space between their bodies. Calum had nearly choked on air, leaning down to kiss Michael earnestly, cupping Michael's cheek in his hand.

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah."

"Okay," Calum had said, ducking his head to kiss Michael's neck, sucking lightly at his pale skin, leaving red marks that would fade by the morning. He'd slid one hand down from Michael's shoulder, over his chest and hips until he was gripping Michael's thigh. He remembers hitching Michael's leg up, spreading them apart a little more before sitting up and surveying Michael's body. He remembers slipping one hand under Michael's arse, palming it for a minute before ghosting his fingers over Michael's entrance curiously, and he remembers how Michael's breath had hitched in his throat and he whimpered, tipping his head back into his pillows. Cal remembers sitting back and frowning briefly, looking around the room.

"Mikey, do you have stuff?"

"Stuff?"

"Like, lube, condoms..."

Cal remembers how Michael had flush bright red but tipped is head back towards the nightstand. "No condoms, but I have..."

"Why do you have lube but no condoms?" Cal had asked as he climbed off the bed and fished through Michael's nightstand.

"I never need to use condoms by myself, you know? I use lube, though."

"You use lube... by yourself?"

"Yeah..."

"What do you do with it, Mikey?" Calum remembers asking, trying to come off as sexy but probably just sounding curious. He'd really wanted to know what Michael had done, what Michael was comfortable with.

"It makes it easier to, like, y'know, wank," Michael had said awkwardly, his eyes flicking away from Calum and at the wall as his cheeks heated up in embarrassment. Calum  had nodded, fiddling with the bottle as he settled back in between Michael's legs.

"Have you ever had anything, like, inside? Like your fingers, or a toy...?" Calum had asked gawkily, dropping the bottle in the sheet in favour of running his fingers over Michael's flushed, warm skin. Michael's eyes had widened and he'd shook his head. "And you're sure you're- you want me? To be your first?"

"Yeah, Cal, I- I really do," Cal remembers Michael promising, reaching down to tangle his fingers with Cal's. 

"And you're sure you're fine with no condom? Like, I'm clean and everything, you're clean, but like, are you sure? Because it doesn't have to be right now, Mikey. We can wait," Calum remembers rambling, not shutting up until Michael grabbed him by the hair and dragged him down into a kiss. 

"Yes, Cally, everything is great, I swear. Now hurry up, please, Calum, I need you."

Calum remembers forcing himself to swallow down his nervousness. Michael needed him, and he needed Michael. He'd scrambled around for the lube in the sheets, uncapping the bottle and squirting some onto his fingers. He remembers the soft, breathy whimper that escaped from Michael's mouth as he reached under him, sliding his slick fingers over Michael's hole, and how Michael had whined Calum's name at Cal's first breach into his body. Cal remembers feeling exhilarated as he decided to throw his restraint to the wind, ducking down and licking Michael's rim, stretched around his fingers. He remembers how Michael's moans went up a few octaves as Cal slipped his tongue inside between his spread fingers. He remembers how Michael's back had arched as the pale boy subconsciously pushed his ass back against Cal's face, spread out like an angel and moaning like sin. He remembers Michael's desperate whining when Cal had pulled his fingers out, groping blindly for the lube and spreading some on his own achingly hard dick. He remembers how he'd fold himself over Michael, catching his swollen, red lips in a kiss as he lined himself up, as he pushed into Michael's body, as he bottomed out in slow, smooth thrusts. He'd waited there for a moment, his hips against Michael's ass, letting Michael adjust.

"Cal, Calum, please," Michael had whined after a a bit, "you can move, Cal, move, please."

Calum remembers nodding and rocking his hips forward, and Michael had let out little pants and whines with each thrust, gripping around Calum's back tightly. Cal remembers hooking one of Michael's knees over his elbow, pulling it up and holding it as he fucked into Michael a little harder. He remembers how Michael went crazy underneath him, whining and moaning loudly, rocking back against Calum's hips, biting Cal's lip desperately.

Calum remembers how it felt like it could've been minutes or years when his orgasm started to build in his stomach. He'd known that Michael was close too, judging by his needy, desperate whimpers and his cock, which twitched against Calum's stomach. Calum had been strangely determined to see Michael come untouched, for some reason. He'd just wanted to be enough, to be able to bring Michael complete bliss through just his own body.

'Are you close?" Cal remembers asking, whispering it huskily into the shell of Michael's ear. Michael had answered him with a whimper and a roll of his hips, pressing back against Cal. Calum had slowed down, completely buried inside Michael, and rated his hips until he found Michael's prostate. Michael had moaned Cal's name, loud and high, and Calum had stayed there, the tip of his cock pressed against it and he rocked his hips forward. "Come for me?" he'd requested softly, smattering kissed to the soft skin under Michael's ear. Michael had come, almost on command, his back arching insanely as his voice broke over beautiful moans, his cock spilling over both of their stomachs. Calum remembers fucking into Michael's motionless body a few more times before he was coming to, words that him mom would be ashamed of falling from his lips as he released into Michael's body. He remembers forcing himself to stay alive for a few more seconds as he lifted his body and pulled out as gently as he could. He remembers staggering to his feet and stumbling across the hall to the bathroom, coming back with a warm, damp cloth, and he remembers how Michael had lay there like a rag doll, letting Calum wipe up his stomach, the insides of his thighs, between the cheeks of his arse. He remembers throwing the cloth to the floor and pulling Michael into his arms, fumbling around for a blanket to pull over them. And he remembers how, after a few minutes of lying in silence when he thought Michael was asleep, Michael's soft, sleepy voice cut through.

"I love you."


End file.
